The Stark Rebellion
by Stine8503
Summary: Before Robert's Rebellion there was something different going on at Winterfell. Every chapter in this story is sort of the final product of some theories and development of characters from house Stark before the Rebellion. Includes, Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen. Most of the scenes were thought of through a long gone RP group. For the sake of the hours spent, it's now a story.
1. Prologue

_You're the Princess of the North. You must always remember that, my sweet girl. You have the blood of the Kings of Winter, the First Men, and the Clans. You are a Princess…_

It was always the same dream, so common now it was comforting, and less heartbreaking. She held her mother's mirror in her hand, and with a few strokes of a brush, and those sweet words he hair was tamed. But that was all it had ever been, she'd been ready to turn and look. Then the thunder clashed loudly outside, and in a second she was awake. A disappointed sigh escaped her lips as she went to open the window. She couldn't remember her mother's face, but her voice… She remembered it like she'd heard it just yesterday. With a few quick breaths of fresh air she cleared her mind of sad thoughts and woe. Her heart even felt lighter as she waved to her Father's men walking in the courtyard looking for shelter. The sky was still dark, and she hardly saw the sun through the rain, but she knew dawn was breaking, despite the thunder clasping the the flashes of lighting.

Lost in thought she wondered slightly if this is how Storm's End would look when she was it's Lady. While she mused, her Father slipped into her room. She hadn't heard his footsteps, nor his voice when he called out softly to her. Only when she felt a sturdy hand on her shoulder did she bother to look in his direction.

"Did the storm wake you?"

"No, it was more my dream." She replied.

A frown formed on his stern face, it had bothered him for years, and whenever she remembered the woman he married. When she was young, she asked questions and he answered them the best he could. It was much easier when she was smaller.

"Was she pretty?"

"Did she look much like me?"

Then they became harder, some things he'd never bothered to ask his wife. But he always tried to soothe her.

"What happened this time?" he asked.

"She was making me pretty for something. I held her mirror, and she brushed my hair. I could feel the ribbons in my hair. Mother said I was a Northern Princess."

"You did like being called a princess, until you found it much more fun to wage war on your brothers." He touched her hair and kissed her forehead. "She never had any qualms about filling your head with nonsense."

He pulled away from her, ready to continue with his morning activities, but just before he got to the open door she let out a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you think she'd like him?" She asked curiously, twirling her long hair between her fingers.

"Who?"

"My betrothed, Robert Baratheon."

He sighed. "It's hard to say." She looked him over and moved away from the window. "She wanted you to have someone strong, someone who we knew could protect you. He's your brother's good friend. We know you will be cared for, that's what matters the most."

"It does help, that he's handsome. But surely Father, who had she wanted me to marry? Aren't most marriages thought of long in advance?"

"Some, others not all. We thought on Brandon first. We knew someone would ask for your hand eventually. You grew so lovely…and you are after all, the daughter of the Warden of the North. Any Northernman would love to have you for themselves, or their son. But why stop you if you could rise higher?"

"And what if I could rise higher than Lady of Storm's End?" She challenged.

"You can not, and you will not, be reasonable my sweet…"

"Elia Martell is sickly."

"Princess Elia Targarayen is married to our crowned prince. Your fondness for him is over, you'll never see him again. With his mistake at Harrenhal's Tourney he likely won't even see your wedding."

She relented ever so slightly and crossed her arms. "Did you tell him I want to be married in the Godswood?" She replied.

"Yes, he offered the Godswood at Storm's End. He wants to make you feel at home. He even mentioned they added a few more deer to the ones they keep at the castle. By the time you're married, he hopes one will birth fawn."

"Why should I care?"

Rickard groaned and rubbed his temples, showing the strain on her arguments that she should not need to marry. "It is a sweet gesture. Eddard told him you are fond of horses. Yours will be too old soon, once you get to Storm's End you'll have a new one. You've loved that horse dearly since you were eight, my child. The fawn will ease your heart when he passes."

Her response was only to take her brush and fix her hair. She went back to the window, and tired to lose herself in her thoughts. He called out to her once more.

"Princess Elia is with child anyway. Everyone on Dragonstone and King's Landing are praying that child be a boy. Even if she died birthing him, if that child is a boy, Prince Rhaegar will not need you or any other woman. Not even a royal order will would convince me to send my maiden daughter to him to play with. You'll have a husband, and you'll give him children. They'll be black of hair, and one day you'll have a little girl you'll love and protect. Your thoughts on the prince will be long gone."

But it wasn't entirely true. Both she and Brandon had always shared one thing in common, it was their sheer audacity to try and make what they wanted happen. Robert Baratheon had a long road ahead of him, one filled with uncertainty. She would never let him have her affections, but she would take what she wanted when she liked. Just like the men at Winterfell, she'd tease them with sweet words; make them feel she wanted them. One day someone would send her flowers, the next something elegant, and once she was done, after they had nothing else to interest her she was done. She preferred to embarrass them, but this had never been the case with the Prince. Something was clearly different, he didn't know if it meant she was growing up, or if she thought herself to be in love, the only thing he was absolutely sure of was one thing; he wished her mother were still alive.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Brandon

There were several reasons Eddard didn't like playing with Brandon, but not he felt he should voice an opinion on. Brandon was the first born, the most practiced, and he needed to be the best. His brother didn't feel that way at all. He didn't mind practicing at all, there were even sometimes he looked forward to it, but it was mostly when it didn't involve his brother. It had been rather difficult for him to stand in front of him now, and Brandon knew it, and he thought it was funny.

"Now, no funny business stick to the basics." Ser Rodrick told them. Brandon smiled widely. "Remember, your father is watching."

That was the sobering moment when Eddard watched his brother look up where Lord Rickard was, then quickly at the ground.

"On three…One, two…three."

Brandon was the first to strike and his brother anticipated each swing and easily blocked them. It wouldn't be a good defense for long, but Brandon was very predictable when it came to practicing with wooden swords. He preferred to follow the same motions they practiced because he could do them better than his brother, but it took him a little time to realize he would beat him faster if he just tried something different and out of the pattern. They circled around each other, and every once in a while when Brandon came close to a hit he would laugh. Not too much longer after that Brandon noticed something in the corner of his eye.

It wasn't often that their mother preferred the courtyard, but she was out there today sewing. He imagined his two youngest siblings were playing in the grass next to her. But Lyanna's eyes were glued to the two of them. So, somehow he managed to move them a little closer.

"Come back over here!" Ser Rodrick called.

But Brandon didn't listen; he knew how he was going to end the match, just as quickly as it had started. Ser Rodrick did make Eddard a little slower, because now he was looking to see where Lyanna and Benjen were.

"Didn't you hear Ser Rodrick? We should move…"

Before he could even finish Brandon made a face and pointed toward the ground. He didn't need to say anything. Lyanna liked to play with Eddard, he had all the same things Brandon had only he was much more gentile than Brandon when it came to being around her. But, without really looking Eddard was sure Lyanna was behind him, where Brandon was pointing. He didn't look around to see before he moved a little too sharply to the right and tripped over himself.

Brandon howled with laughter. Lady Stark however, had stopped sewing the moment they were too close. She hadn't found it funny at all; Brandon saw no amusement in her eyes as she pulled him away back to the castle. He struggled against her as far as the main door.

"Where are we going?" He complained.

"To your father. I saw what you did; this is the last time you pull a stunt like that."

"He tripped all by himself!" Brandon argued.

"You know exactly what you did."

"Maybe he shouldn't be so stupid then, but it isn't my fault…"

"It is your fault. You are their older brother; their first line of protection and all they see is they can't trust you."

Once they finally reached their destination he looked up at Lord Rickard, then back at the ground. "Has Eddard moved?"

"He has, it's clear he's fine. After you left them Lyanna brought him some flowers, saw him lying on the ground and decided it was an invitation to roll in the dirt." He sighed. "What did he do?"

She frowned and they both stepped away, leaving Brandon with their guests. He glanced over and watched as they talked in whispers. Then finally they separated, only this time when they separated Lady Stark took to entertaining their guests while Brandon followed grudgingly behind his father.

"Starks are born strong." He told his son. "But strength, without compassion, without honor, it hardly being strong. Strength comes for protection. If it's for you, and your siblings. You are strong for them, you are strongest with them. You were instigating Brandon, and until you are truly strong, you will not hold real steel."

The boy didn't flinch he just looked up at his father and crossed his arms. "I am to be Lord of Winterfell."

"Once you've learned something. You might be, it is after all your birthright. I've named you my heir. Just remember son, the boys you play with today will one day be your men. Treat them with disrespect now, and you may never have their true loyalty."

Another quick glance at his Father's stern face then back down at the ground. "Yes Father, of course."

A few confident, strides and he threw open the chamber door and continued down the hallway. His pace slowed the further he walked, the anger dissipating, his wooden sword tapped against the floor now. Now there was no pressure, no one was here, he was alone. His burden was no longer trying to be a Lord like his father, he was just an eight year old boy. Then he heard a little giggle, he turned and slowly peered around the corner.

It was Eddard's room, the younger boy was sitting on his bed, trying to tell Lyanna a story. In Brandon's opinion she would never be a lady, more times than not they found her digging, or trying to mount one of the horses. It was dangerous, a two year old who favored the stables to her bed chambers. How the people talked on how she could be trampled to death, and how their parents worried. He called several times for her to sit on his bed, instead she crawled under it, jumped on it, then tumbled off onto the floor and ran to his window.

"Please Lyanna, mother will be angry with me if you don't have a nap."

"No, no, noooo, no." she turned, and ran from the room, right in front of where Brandon was. Then, she turned back to the room and laughed. She hadn't noticed any noise from his boots hitting against the floor, she didn't know he was there until Brandon had lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"Bran! Bran!"

"BRANDON." He corrected.

He carried her into the room and she giggled. Once he was closer to his brother, who now stood, looking at his elder brother embarrassed he dropped her on the bed and covered her in a blanket. Immediately she pretended to dig into the feather bed, and growled.

"What is she doing?" he asked Eddard.

"She's been pretending she's a direwolf all day."

Brandon sighed. "Well, we'll have to take her to Father to have her tied up outside, in the mud, like a direwolf."

She crawled out from under the blanket and looked at Brandon curiously, then she smiled. "Mud!"

"Then mother will have to give her a bath, it might take all night, she might even miss dinner." Brandon teased. He pulled his wooden sword out and held it out, like he was going to duel his brother.

"NO ." She replied firmly. "No, no bath, no bath, NO BATH." She crossed her arms and growled.

"You're making her more angry…."

"She's fine. She's a tame little thing." Brandon put his sword away and pat her head. She waited a moment, her grey eyes blinked a few times, then she smiled and giggled. Then she grabbed at his sword. He put his hands on hers and yanked the sword from her with force, such force that she tumbled onto the floor, blankets surrounding her and she wailed.

"Brandon, she's only two…"

"I don't care, it's my sword." He argued.

"Bran, mean, mean, MEAN." She whined.

He crouched down to her level and scoffed. "Then don't touch my things."

She sniffled, rubbed her eyes, then reached for the sword again. "MINE!" They both said at the same time. Eddard frowned gave her his wooden sword instead.

She smiled and hugged it tight. "Ned!"

"Father will not be pleased." Brandon told Eddard. He even shoved him to prove his point.

"…I didn't do anything."

"You let her have what she wanted. She doesn't learn that way! Mother and Father will scold you for it when I tell them. You're a complete idiot."

Eddard sighed, he looked down to the ground. Now Lyanna was laying on the floor, asleep. In one hand she held the sword, the other she clutched the blanket. "But she's quiet now…."

Brandon shrugged and lifted her up and put her back on his bed. "Why's she in here anyway." He asked his brother. "You should have put her in her room." He leaned down and picked her back up, only this time he cradled her in his arms and sighed.

For a moment his brother looked offended, he hesitated but he had reached out for his brother's shoulder as he turned to go back to the door. "What?" He growled under his breath.

But he hadn't had a moment to respond. She cleared her throat and looked the boys over. "Brandon, what are you doing with your sister?"

"I was taking her back to her room."

"Eddard, when I left her with you did I tell you to bring her to her room?"

"No mother…" He replied. For a second the two of them glanced at each other, he was sure Brandon was furious. Brandon put her back on the bed and crossed his arms, giving him an accusing look.

"After all, if you put her in her room, how am I to get your brother to sleep. She squeels, and cries, absolutely awful. Which of the two of you got her to sleep?"

Brandon smirked. He felt he should only return the favor of feeling humiliated. "Eddard. She was having a fit, and he gave her his sword to calm her down."

"Yes, boys are such trouble." She stood between them, touched the center of their backs and sighed. "Come now you two, if you wake her I'll keep you in charge of watching her all day."

Brandon knew better than to tarry, he was in a rush to leave the room, shoved his brother aside once he was back outside he turned to his brother, smirked and side spitefully. "She's going to destroy all of your things."

It didn't really seem to look like Eddard entirely cared. But once they were almost all the way out of sight from his chambers he did turn to look back, a little unsurely. It made his brother laugh.

"Don't taunt your brother. She won't do anything to his things and you know it. She's laid in his bed and napped for a few weeks now and everything has been fine. Aside from her deciding she might want to wear his clothes. But your father is very persuasive. You agree, don't you?"

"Yes." He replied irritated. "I hadn't done a thing wrong. We were training Mother, there was no reason for you to involve Father."

"Training too roughly, it isn't a war. You have a strong desire to powerful, and a good mind to know what is yours. But, you are too young to act like you are Lord of this castle."

"I will be the Lord of Winterfell." He replied forcefully. Eddard turned to him, his brother had stopped in the hallway, bearing his teeth, and he let out almost a growl.

She started to laugh, she turned around to face him and smiled. "Will you?" She knelt a little, to his level and clasped his hands. "That isn't what I've seen. You are too wild, too forceful, too headstrong, and if you do not learn to listen, you will die. Then Eddard will be Lord of Winterfell."

He pulled away from her. "I WILL BE…"

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? Calm down." She stroked his hair. "We have time to help you. You are after all my son, what Mother doesn't protect their children?"


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Eddard

He was sure he didn't do anything wrong, but somehow he couldn't help but feel nervous. Waiting for his Father to return was the longest hour of his life. Lord Rickard pulled his son aside after he was practicing sparing with Brandon. Eddard had tried to convince himself it hadn't been because of his performance, now he was starting to worry. But it hadn't been the Master of Arms calling on him.

When Lord Rickard came back to the room he looked the boy over, and sat across from him in his Lord's chair. He put his hands together and sighed. "I had been thinking on this a while, and I think it is past time I acted. Lord Steffon Baratheon, before his passing had said he would send one of his sons to the Eyrie so he could have an easier time learning how to act like a Lord. It has been common to sometimes lose children before they've grown. So, most careful fathers like to have all of their sons trained. Now, as he has passed it is very necessary his son should learn from a Lord."

Eddard looked up into his stern face. "Do you think you know why I've called you here now?"

"Yes Father, I…I think it would please you if I went to the Eyrie with him."

"It would be a benefit to us all. He is still young, but his first brother is close in age to him. He would greatly miss not having another boy around him. It is a rare opportunity for two good alliances. I know it might be a difficult thing for you to think of now, but there are many possibilities for your future."

Then he asked a question that seemed to trouble his father. "Why not send Brandon?"

"Brandon has so far learned from only me, and in turn, seen how other Northern Lords run their castles. They're used to him, they know him well, and if I were to take you instead they might come to think something is suspicious."

And he would hate it, Eddard thought as he looked back down at the ground.

"If anything I hear is true, he is a little like Brandon. You, it is safe to say I think Jon Arryn will grow fond of you. You generally aren't a boy to speak out of turn, you aren't particularly bold, and in most cases you are very even tempered and quiet. Jon has said himself, he is a little boisterous but he has a good personality that makes him friends, he just doesn't seem to want them much."

They were both quiet then Lord Rickard stood up and squatted down in front of the chair. "There isn't a thing I can say to make it easier. But I need it to be you, you're a good age. The Old Gods know things aren't easy between Brandon and yourself. It seems your mother finds it amusing to pit him against you. You were happy with him until she started this nonsense. The least it will do for you is give you back some of what you missed. From what Jon has said, he is brash but not cruel. Brandon sometimes feels the need to be, mostly because of what she's said. It would bridge the gap between the two of you, if you helped him win the alliance of the Stormlands. It's good for our house."

He looked up again and sighed. "When do I leave Father?"

"I would like it to be three days from now. I need to pick very good men to send with you, maybe two or three. If you'd like, we can discuss that as well. If someone would make you feel…More adjusted I'll see to it they can stay for a little while."

"It isn't necessary, I'll be fine." He replied. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"No." He touched the top of his son's head, and then pulled him into an embrace. "I knew I could count on you to not make this difficult. But please, don't tell any of them. Not Brandon, nor Lyanna, Benjen, especially your Mother."

"But Mother knows?" he asked pulling himself to an arm's length away from his father.

"She knows all she needs to know. I'm concerned about the safety of the four of you first."

"She doesn't know…"

A small smile formed on his usually grim face. "Don't tell her, if she asks why you're packing things; tell her I said I'd take you somewhere soon. I don't want you to say your goodbyes to her until your things are on the wagon, and you are on your horse and ready to leave."

"What about…"

"You can tell your siblings after breakfast the day you go. It isn't forever; technically Robert Baratheon is Lord of Storm's End. I expect if you're friends he would want to show you the Stormlands. If you think he would get along with your brothers he is welcome at Winterfell, as are you. You are a Stark, if you think you need to come home you can come visit."

When he left he found it hard not to be upset by the times he'd walked from the castle to the Godwood he'd wiped tears from his eyes three times. He knelt in front of the Heart Tree and bowed his head. "Please let my Father be please with his decision, let things be easier for Lyanna and Benjen. Let Brandon become more peaceful, so he'll be a better Lord. Help keep my Mother and Father together, they…They seem to be looking at different paths for each of us. Guide me on what is right to do while I'm away…"

"He wants you to go then?" Brandon asked from behind him.

"He did…"

"She told me after breakfast this morning Father was sending me to the Vale for my bad behavior. He didn't say anything, I was nervous for a second there."

"Don't tell anyone." Eddard said, "I'm not even supposed to let you know."

Brandon scoffed. "She isn't supposed to know, Father thinks she's gone mad. She's telling him since she gave birth to Lyanna she's been having green dreams. Says it's only for certain things, how I won't be Lord and you will. She says Lyanna is going to get him killed, so he shouldn't show her any attention. He's pretending he's listening to her scheming."

"For all you know she does have green dreams."

"If she had green dreams it wouldn't just be about us. You're blind really you are. They've never been close. She wants to control Winterfell by making things come true. She wants to put Lyanna in danger because she knows Father would do anything to save her. She favors you because, really, you act a little like Father. You're just enough like him to make everyone in the North follow you without question should something happen to me. That's what father thinks at least. I thought for sure he was angry because I heard him talking and that's why he called Lord Dustin."

"Well if she's so fond of me why is he giving me to someone else?"

Brandon laughed. "Because, you idiot, he thinks she's mad. The first chance she gets she might try and kill all four of us. She might bring us all out here to the Godswood and give us poison. Think about it, why would Father not want you to tell her? He's afraid if she knows she'll try and kill you before you can leave, that way she'll think she can keep you here forever."

"Or maybe since she's fond of me, like you said he's afraid it will drive her mad." Eddard replied. "I don't question what Father tells me, what if she does see somethings, but she just doesn't understand? She said right after she had Lyanna she wanted to hurry to give him his last son."

"You're an idiot, she's probably too old to have anymore. She just got lucky is all. All highborn ladies want to give their lords sons. It keeps the line going after all. She made a guess Eddard, a fifty fifty guess, then she got lucky."

He didn't say anything else. There was no reason to argue with his brother, besides anything he heard likely came from their father in some way or another. He did like having him sit in while he talked with their men. They were both quite, then a breeze blew and Eddard pulled his cloak tighter. When he looked back up, Brandon was holding his hand out to him.

"Whatever happens next, no hard feelings, all right?"

"All right…" He replied unsurely.


End file.
